CATALYST

DAVID

"Fuck yes, they are. "But our actions aren't," I argued. "Feeling something doesn't mean you should act on it. If everybody went around doing what they felt, we'd live in complete chaos."

"And chaos is messy."

"Yes."

"And you don't like things that are messy."

I glanced at him sideways and then stared straight ahead. For someone I'd met less than twenty-four hours ago, that was pretty damn intuitive. It kind of annoyed me. "No. I don't."

"I understand." He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "I admire your discipline and self-control. I could probably use some of it. And I didn't like paying for the apartment without seeing it, but what choice did I have? I wanted to come here more than anything. I was willing to risk it."

I softened a little. Travis was young—I had to remember that. Some of that fearlessness I envied was simply not knowing better. Someone his age needed to make mistakes in order to learn—I certainly had. And I couldn't fault him for going after something he wanted. "I get that. You just have to think things through a little more. Be practical. Plan ahead. Consider all the possible consequences before you take a risk."

"I'll try," he said. "I really want to make my life here work."

And before I knew what I was saying, the words were out of my mouth. "I'll help you. I can help you."

As soon as I said it, I was sorry, not because I didn't like him or want him to succeed, but because I wasn't comfortable with the way he made me feel. I'd thought showing him kindness today would make me feel less distressed about last night, but it wasn't. Even being in the car with him had me on edge—the interior of the Range Rover had felt perfectly spacious yesterday, but with Travis in the passenger seat it felt snug. I was constantly aware of how close he was. My skin hummed with it.

All I wanted was to get him to his apartment, wish him well, and put him out of my head.

~~~~~~~~~~

The address Maxim had given me was an old two-story building down Guryong Village, just across a six-lane motorway from Dogok-dong of the affluent Gangnam District. I frowned as we pulled up. It was nothing but traffic, tourists, and homeless people. The building itself looked like a World War II bunker, complete with crumbling facade and scorched lawn in front."You're sure this is it?" I asked him.

"Yes. It looks nice, doesn't it?"

Are you fucking kidding me? I thought. But I didn't say anything as he jumped out of the car. Who knew what his living conditions had been like back in Japan? Maybe this place looked like a palace to him.

Still.

"How long are you planning to stay here?" I got out of the car and shut the door, making sure I locked it. "This isn't the greatest area."

"For a little while, at least." He glanced around the parking lot. "I hope it's close to public transportation. I'll need that."

"Public transportation? You won't get too far on public transit around here."

"No? I guess I'll get around by walking then."

I stared at him. "Travis, this is Korea. It would take you hours to walk or even a whole day at most."

"I took a deep breath, feeling my blood pressure rise. How was it possible someone could make a transatlantic move with so little preparation? Was he one of those people that things just worked out for somehow? Who succeeded solely on instincts, determination, and charm? Maybe Travis was truly poised on the edge of achieving the Korean Dream, but I had a bad feeling about this place. While I was trying to figure out how to help him without getting too invested, he held out his hand.